Thursday 17 November 2011 11.14 EST
First published on Thursday 17 November 2011 11.14 EST

The first thing we see when we look at a newsstand are the headlines. And a memorable headline is like a catchy chorus. It can define a subeditor's career as a No 1 single defines a pop star. Who couldn't admire "Book lack in Ongar" (about library closures in an Essex town) or "Super Cally go ballistic: Celtic are atrocious" (when Scottish football minnows Caledonian Thistle thrashed the mighty Celtic)?

Connoisseurs of headlines will enjoy the winningly named Ohio Town Saved from Killer Bees by Hungry Vampire Bats. As RR commenter Steenbeck notes, it's from an album of songs by Yo La Tengo named after newspaper headlines.

Did You See His Name is a song Ray Davies based on a story in the Hornsey Journal, the tragic tale of a man who killed himself after his shoplifting conviction was publicised in the local paper. Perfect Kinks territory, and "real kitchen sink stuff", as RR commenter ShivSideCar notes. All the same, it seems harsh to blame the local paper for his death. It must be said that in general musicians, perhaps because of their experience in the public eye, aren't big fans of the press. There's a note of weary cynicism about the Jayhawks' assurance that "miracles really happen that way" in the Baltimore Sun. And ex-Talk Talk mainman Mark Hollis takes a similarly dim view of the fourth estate on The Daily Planet: "Scoop the life you leech." Sounds harsh – but the track's a treasure, a delicate shuffle through the scrublands between jazz and folk.

The Daily Mail takes a surprisingly Lennonesque pounding in a protest song characteristic of Radiohead. Where their lyrics are straightforward ("Where's the truth? What's the use?") they sound exasperated; where they're more elliptical ("The fish in the sea have lost command"), the meaning's unclear. But you get the gist: the Daily Mail's evil.

Less abstruse are the Jam, advising listeners to "read between the lines" to find the truth. News of the World, from 1978, is the only Jam single to have been written (and sung) by bassist Bruce Foxton. The best bits, it must be said, are the momentarily sidelined Paul Weller's harmonies and guitar solo. This was a long time before hacking, but then as now, tabloids feed on scandal. Scandal was also the title of a 1989 film about the John Profumo affair, and had a clever theme song produced and written by Pet Shop Boys and brought to perfection by Dusty Springfield: Nothing Has Been Proved.

My own journalistic shortcomings were highlighted by my efforts to gather information about Brit-psych combo the Tate Gallery and their B-side Newspaper Man. Neither was I able to establish whether Luke Vibert, alias Wagon Christ, was referring to the Sunday papers' comic strips in his deft cut-up The Funnies. But rather than consign them to the spike, in the spirit of openness I thought I'd include them in the playlist and ask you, the readers, if you could enlighten us. If you can, leave a comment below.

On Smog's easygoing dirge The Morning Paper, the protagonist puts his head under a pillow and hopes the bad news goes away. Bill Callahan and Jim O'Rourke's attitude to newspapers is simplicity itself: "I roll right over and go to sleep." Loudon Wainwright III isn't much of a news junkie either. In Sunday Times, the master of the comic song goes through the pleasures of a good weekend read, section by section, and the news depresses him: "gives you the over-informed blues". Section Two (entertainment, leisure and arts) fares better: "Next time that things get this great is Sports, way up in Section Eight." You get the picture.

But as everyone who's ever worked on a newspaper knows, the most important element is the crossword. The darkness was descending on Sly Stone by the time he recorded Crossword Puzzle, but it's up there with his best stuff. It's taut, joyous and righteous – and sampled by De La Soul, and therefore imperishable.